


Just the Three of Us Against the Rest of the World

by Smushed



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angry!John, Caught in the Act, Incest, M/M, NSFW, Poly Relationship, explicit anal sex, fluff as well, some love, three way
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-19
Updated: 2014-04-19
Packaged: 2018-01-20 00:58:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1490830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Smushed/pseuds/Smushed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What is so wrong about it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just the Three of Us Against the Rest of the World

**Author's Note:**

> shego1142 asked:
> 
> Prompt: Sherlock, Mycroft and Moriarty are in a weird but very close & loving relationship. That's why Mor came back during s3, to save Sherlock. After that the 3 became inseparable. John & Mary catch the Holmes bros /at it/ in 221b and Lock and My have to explain their relationship when Mor walks in. John flips of course and then they have to explain how the 3 are together, confusing John Eventual fluff? Points for a sweet but crazy Moriarty and points for sweet&cute Mycroft

Mycroft panted and Sherlock revelled in his hot breath on his face, Mycroft always preferred to stay clothed, even though Sherlock tried to convince him that his body was magnificent. He didn't complain when Mycroft stayed dressed, because as Sherlock was completely naked, he could feel all the beautiful material of Mycroft's expensive tailored suit. 

"Sherlock, you are  _perfect."_ Mycroft praised, stroking Sherlock's cheek with the back of his knuckles as Sherlock stroked his brother's cock with a perfectly pressured fist. Sherlock grunted in affirmative, as though to say 'of course I am'. He had readied himself all day, cleaning himself and stretching and fully lubricating his arse so that his brother could have gorgeous easy access to him, and the preparation had Sherlock hot and bothered. And that was three hours ago. In other words, he had been waiting for this. 

When Sherlock was content with how hard and pink-cheeked he had made Mycroft he straddled his hips on the sofa of 221B and lined Mycroft up to his arse. 

"Come here." Mycroft hummed, a small smile on his face as he brought Sherlock's chin towards him, he lovingly kissed Sherlock, tongue rolling across his lower lip and as Sherlock sank down they both cursed, Mycroft's head fell back and Sherlock's fell forward, leaning on Mycroft's suit jacket with his curls.

"The things you do to me, Brother Mine..." Sherlock shook his head in glorious overwhelming sensation, he shuffled to rid his right leg of cramp, and when he gained the correct position, began to ride Mycroft. 

"Oh, God, Sherlock... You're going to stain my shirt." Mycroft chuckled, before groaning. Sherlock's erection was rubbing up along Mycroft's shirt, leaving a damp trail from his pre-ejaculate. Sherlock smirked against Mycroft's neck as he sucked a bruise there, and that was when Mycroft took Sherlock's hips and began to pick up their rhythm. 

Sweat sticking them together, messy kisses and wet tongues prevented the usually very acute awareness of the brothers to be useless. It prevented them hearing the footsteps on the stairs. John and Mary had been watching the brothers in absolute stunned silence for fifteen seconds (which to them felt like fifteen days) before John piped up.

“What the fucking _fuck_ are you both doing?” He huffed out of his nose in astonishment. Mary was just speechless.

The brother's hearts froze, but they looked up at the invasive couple.

“What does it look like, John?” Sherlock replied bluntly.

“Now, Sherlock...” Mycroft scolded gently, nothing in his being wanted to remove his brother from his lap but he was not one for an audience and they had some explaining. He slapped Sherlock's thigh for him to climb off, which Sherlock obliged, growling and mumbling as Mycroft slid out of him. The brother's tried to cover their dignity, Mycroft buttoned up his trousers and Sherlock grabbed his dressing gown. He still possessively sat back in Mycroft's lap, having the dressing gown just covering his front, and without helping himself Mycroft's hand returned to rest on Sherlock's waist.

John looked _furious._

“Don't be so angry John.” Sherlock snapped.

“Oohh,” An Irish voice crooned, a smirking Jim Moriarty stepped into the room with a light in his dark eyes. “How interesting, I see you boys have both been caught red handed.” The Irish voice crooned.

“You took your time,” Mycroft raised his brow.

“Can't rush perfection.” Jim gestured to his immaculate suit, perfectly slicked back hair and Sherlock deduced he had also been preparing himself that day for penetration.

“Are you taking the fucking piss?!” John's voice was loud and he was shaking, he grabbed Mary protectively.

“Oooh, Johnny boy, jealous?” Jim went over and snogged Sherlock, before shuffling and giving the elder brother a lazy kiss and then perched beside Mycroft.

John stood forward, but Mary grabbed his arm. “John.” Her voice was firm, and her eyes were definite.

“Thank you Mary.” Mycroft nodded in her direction. “We are in a relationship,”

And before John could grimace and question it Sherlock continued it for his brother. “All three of us.”

John shook his head, mouth gaping, Mary was the only grounding force preventing him from flipping out. “ _You!”_ John hissed. “He strapped semtex to my fucking chest and _you_ two are brothers, actual fucking brothers, am I the only sane one here?” He turned to his wife then, who still remained calm.

“And?” Sherlock interrupted.

“Johnny! John John. I would never hurt you. It was a game!” Jim chimed in,

“You love the adrenalin, the thrill of the chase, the blood pumping through your veins. We kept you sane.” Sherlock nuzzled into Mycroft's chest.

“And the whole relative thing?” He huffed.

“Well, we aren't harming anyone, we aren't procreating, so there are no complications there. Just because you can't imagine being with your own sibling, is it so wrong for anyone else? For example, if you can't picture yourself with the same gender, would you criticise anyone else for being gay?” Mycroft tried to explain, shrugging, he didn't mind. It wasn't wrong for him.

“I'm in love with them.” Sherlock said simply. And both Jim and Mycroft turned to face the detective, who seemed unphased by their reaction.

“Oh, baby,” Jim was grinning, a face splitting smile as he took Sherlock's hand in his, and Mycroft clutched Sherlock tighter.

John relaxed at this, and fell into Mary's grip. Nodding absent mindedly, “Right... Right.”

“I'm sorry you had to find out this way.” Mycroft interjected.

“It's... None of my business.” John sighed. “I uh... I'm glad you're happy Sherlock.” In honesty, it was what John did worry about. That Sherlock would be alone, that he would turn to his drug addiction again.

“I am. Thank you John.” Sherlock smiled.

**Author's Note:**

> I made a mistake on this on Tumblr... Damn it! Corrected it here.  
> My tumblr is smush-ed.tumblr.com, my writing tumblr is smushedwrites.tumblr.com feel free to send me prompts or comments on my writing. Thank you!


End file.
